


Bemohning Christmas

by Judopixie



Category: Colditz (1972)
Genre: Chess, Christmas Angst, Even Mohn has feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2845226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judopixie/pseuds/Judopixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mohn is fed up of Christmas, but for a very good reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bemohning Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Christmas! Just to be clear I am trying to break into a small fandom with a fic that was dreamt up and written at three in the morning before being edited and beta read whilst trying to finish all the stuff we haven't yet done for christmas. On the upside, it was beta read by my beautiful, talented and generally awesome step-mum Katathean. Whilst she was trying to finish wrapping for christmas...  
> Enjoy!

“God rest you merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay!”

Mohn was tired of hearing about Christmas. He used to enjoy it, many years ago when he was still a child. He supposed that this year was an improvement on the last, which he had spent starving, frozen and being shot at, but that was all he was prepared to grant the situation. He had spent the first two hours of his day hearing the words “happy Christmas” so many times that they had lost all meaning and even Ulmann had begun relax into the Christmas spirit. Mohn had hoped he would be a little more sombre, he had wanted to go home to his wife after all, but he smiled through the various ‘humorous’ stories of previous Christmases and for once Mohn didn’t have the energy to order them all to be quiet.

Then, after Appell, the prisoners had lingered and mingled with the guards singing Christmas carols. Mohn had retreated as soon as he could, shutting himself in his office to make a start on the small pile of paperwork he had left over from yesterday. If he were honest with himself he would point out that he didn’t really care about the work and that he simply wanted a few hours where he wouldn’t have to smile and pretend he was having a wonderful time. Even without pointing this out it was a poor distraction, he could still hear the choir and by one o’clock his in-tray was empty. By three o’clock he had played four chess games with himself, read the newspaper, done a crossword and dismissed two guards and Ulmann who were all curious as to why he was spending Christmas alone in his office. Yet another knock at the door made him look up.

  
“Come.” He said wearily, fully expecting another guard to ask what he was doing here. He didn’t expect Simon Carter to be standing there smirking.

“Ah, good evening Mr Carter.” Mohn said, attempting to rearrange his face into a matching smirk.

“Good evening Major.” Carter’s smirk grew wider. “Not feeling very Christmassy?”

The smirk, forced and brittle to start with, fell from Mohn’s face. For one insane moment he actually considered telling Simon Carter exactly why he wasn’t celebrating. Then he recovered himself and hauled the smirk back into place.

“It’s cold out there.” He joked weakly.

“It’s cold in here.” Carter retorted.

“True, but less so.”

“There are other rooms in this castle Major, what’s wrong with those?”

Mohn had no idea where to begin. Would it be that Christmas is not for Appells and prisoners but for little brothers jumping on your bed to wake you and eating Stollen and cherries at six in the morning? Or perhaps that of his two brothers one was dead in Africa and he hadn’t heard from the other one in weeks? Perhaps some of those thoughts showed on his face because understanding flickered briefly in Carter’s eyes.

“Did Cathy send you anything for Christmas Mr Carter?” Mohn asked to fill the slightly uncomfortable silence.

“A scarf, a pair of socks and a bar of chocolate. How about you?”

“Paperwork.” Mohn answered dryly and Carter’s smirk finally broke into a smile. He gestured to the chess board.

“Fancy a game, Major?”

Mohn smiled back.

“Why not?”


End file.
